A bit not good
by TheDarkestShinobi
Summary: Prompt: After years of dating and months of planing, Sherlock has planned out the most perfect way to propose to John. Too bad Murphy's Law is a bitch. Everything that could go wrong does. Sherlock throwing possibly his worst tantrum yet ensues


**TheDarkestShinobi: **Got a prompt on Tumblr, [feel free to send me yours!]

Prompt: After years of dating and months of planing, Sherlock has planed out the most perfect way to propose to John. Too bad Murphy's Law is a bitch. Everything that could go wrong does. Sherlock throwing possibly his worst tantrum yet ensues

**Start: **

Sherlock notices everything, whether it be deduced or observed. He wouldn't be the world's only consulting detective if he wasn't. The minute he'd started a relationship with John, well, if you count that shag in the park after a particularly difficult case the start of their relationship, he'd noticed something he didn't expect.

John didn't consider that the start of their relationship because of what it took Sherlock no time at all to figure out. John was a romantic; oh he was hopeless about it.

See John noticed things when he wanted too, the twitch of hands and quirks of lips. Sherlock had been proud of John's growing observational skills until he realized the trivial meaning John gave all of them. That's why, today, they were going to re have their first date, only instead of Sherlock asking John to be his boyfriend he was going to ask him to marry him. It would be perfect.

He wore his purple button up, because John loved him in that shirt, even if he never said it. He even made tea, though John was left to scrounge up something for breakfast. The morning started the way it normally did, John checked his blog and Sherlock checked on experiments. Then the telly was turned on.

_Ready-A_

Sherlock stared at his phone long enough that John was worried.

_Not supposed to be ready for another 93 minutes! –SH_

_Take it or leave it_

So Angelo's wife was taking the pregnancy hard. He knew the man had no secrets. Okay, he'd reverse the date. John would still get the symbolism. He put on his coat and put the collars up with a smirk before grabbing the blue scarf.

"Let's go John." John was sputtering about giving people warnings but was at the door before Sherlock crossed the street. John bumped Sherlock as they walked and the quirk of John's lips let him know it wasn't an accident. He smiled.

When they walked into Angelo's their usual table was open and they sat down. Angelo brought over their menus and Sherlock waved them away exactly as he did the first night.

"He'll have the Chicken risotto and I'll have the Ritoni, oh, and do bring a candle." John's eyebrows shot up and Sherlock knew he caught the reference.

"So, you look like you have a day planned, what's going on?"

"We'll stop home after this, I have to pick up something and drop it off to Lestrade and then we can cut across the park to go see Molly at St. Barts." They'd never get to Bart's; they hadn't the first night either.

"And here is your meal," Angelo said as he placed the Ritoni in front of Sherlock. "and the Chicken," just as he swooped to place it down he was hit from behind by a boy around 5 and John's chicken made it all over his jumper.

"Oh no!" Angelo exclaimed as the mother grabbed the boy's hand profusely apologizing. John laughs it off as he takes off the jumper and sends everyone else away saying over and over again how it was okay, but it was not okay. Not at all. Sherlock can't believe what happened.

"This was your plan?" John says with a laugh as he places the dirtied jumper next to him. He winks as he laces his hands together. "rid me of my clothes." Sherlock can't curb his anger at the ruined moment and turns away from him

"No. No, I don't want to do that." He realizes something is wrong when he spots the hurt written all over John's face. "No, I mean-" John stands and Angelo comes back with another plate.

"I'm going to go clean off in the bathroom." John's walk is fast, he couldn't wait to get away, but the only mess was on his jumper, clearly left behind. Sherlock picks up the steak knife and throws it into the wall. The customers next to him jumped but he didn't care. He placed the second one to the left and third in between. The fourth one made a straight vertical line.

Lunch was a bit tense after that.

The flowers would help, Sherlock thought as he saw the tag on the door. He smiled. Finally, someone got something right. He opened the door to see the flowers waiting on the bottom of the steps. They were the wrong color. Yellow. What do yellow roses even mean?

John peers under his arm.

"Flowers, Sherlock, for me?" John pushes past him and pauses before picking up the flowers and taking them into the flat. Sherlock picks up the folder for Lestrade and watches John look at the flowers. He doesn't know what it means, but it can't be good based on the look on John's face.

"Come on, then." He usually got a kiss on the cheek or flowers, before other things, but John didn't gie him a kiss. They settled into a cab and Sherlock pulled out his phone. Friendship. Yellow flowers were for friendship, well, they were friends. They were more than that yes, but they were friends.

They got out of the cab at the corner and started walking towards the station. John is starting to smile again when a rude idiot across the street yells obscenities at the two for their sexuality. Sherlock turns to him, eyes rolling.

"He's not my boyfriend, you idiot, make the deduction, he's my f-" Oh. Not yet. He didn't ask yet. He froze and heard John's voice

"I'm his friend!" he said loudly, before he added in a much lower tone "apparently"

"Wait, John," John cut him off.

"You're embarrassed, I get it." John curled into himself and walked into the station doors.

Sherlock contemplated murder. He looked into the nearest camera.

"You get me his name, Mycroft." He stalked into the station after it moved up and down twice.

"Have you done it yet?" Lestrade asks as soon as he takes the folder from Sherlock, who shakes his head.

"No, waiting for the right moment." He knows John has heard the second he sees him, so he pickpockets Lestrade, and Anderson, and Donavan. Leave it to John to notice and make the wrong deduction. He'd clear it up in the park.

"Let's go to the park."

It was empty the last time they were here, but children were everywhere now. Loud, messy, brats. Fine. He got the memo. This would not go according to plan at all. It didn't matter though, as long as John said yes. He would forgo the rest of the walk. "John." Sherlock kneeled pulling out the velvet box. John turned just in time to get hit in the face with a softball. John let out a dignified grunt as he brought his hand up to his face. His nose was bleeding everywhere.

Sherlock swore under his breath and guided John to a park bench. The blood was cleaned up quickly.

"Wait, despite everything that happened," and John's voice cracks in a way Sherlock hadn't heard yet "We're re-having our first date backwards." Trust John to notice. "Oh God, Sherlock!" Finally, something seemed to be going right. John was crying, Sherlock had figured it was had about an 80% chance of happening so he wasn't surprised.

"Backwards!" John looked crushed. Wait. No. He's supposed to be elated. Sherlock shook his head, trying to derail whatever the thoughts the doctor was having "You're breaking up with me?" John turns away from him as he let out a huff. "I can't believe this." Sherlock dropped his shoulders

"Neither can I." He ran a hand through his hair.

"Fine." He heard John's voice, but it sounded like venom coated in ice. "I'll move out."

"NO!" It was a roar that rips from his lips and caused John to turn back to him but Sherlock is stalking away, trying to pull all his hair out. "AARRUUUGGGHHHH." John is sure the sound is not human. Sherlock is kicking a garbage can over and over.

"No NO! NO,NO,NO,NO!" He's screaming obscenities and John witnesses someone calling the police. John frowns, this must've been hard on him too.

"Sherlock, it's okay." He swallowed hard. Sherlock looks at him, then tilts his head. "I get it."

"Get what?" his voice is teetering on fracture.

"We're too different."

"NO!" Sherlock starts shaking John. "YOU IDIOT!" He lets out a sigh "don't you see what's going on here?" And John pulls away.

"I see it. No need to flaunt it." John walks away and Sherlock has a serious urge to start shooting something.

"Wait!" Sherlock is running, but John got a head start. "I love you, you're amazing! John!"

Sherlock runs all the way home to find out John is locked in his room.

He deposits himself on the couch and pulls out the box, opening it. He closes it and puts it down on the table next to him, before throwing everything else, minus the skull, at the wall. It makes a clatter and he collapses to the ground afterwards.

"Sherlock? What in the world is going on here?"

"IT's not working!" Sherlock groans "It's all gone wrong!" He stalks over to John and grabs his shoulders. "It's gone to shit."

"Hey, hey hey," John is torn right now, but he can't lose Sherlock "we can still be friends."

"I don't want to be your _friend._" He spits out and John goes slack.

"Oh,"

"No. shut up, SHUT UP!" He storms back to the table and picks up the box. "Today was about this. All about this stupid little metal band with a fixed meaning and my way of trying to be romantic!" John's eyes fall to the box of black velvet. Why that's big enough for a… "So, since this has all gone terribly wrong I'll skip the rest of it." Sherlock deposits the box in John's hand.

"There, _fiancé_. We're getting married."

**End**

Thoughts? Prompts? Can't promise they'll all be this long.


End file.
